


A Haunting at Casa De Lance

by KarsKars



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: "Cute Ghost" Prompt, DWDK Halloween Birthday Prompt, Ghost Keith, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Keithtober 2020, Mentioned Hunk (Voltron), POV Lance (Voltron), Roommates, like you need to squint super hard to notice, very subtly implied though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27168119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarsKars/pseuds/KarsKars
Summary: What do a werewolf, a vampire, and a ghost have in common? They've all been Lance's roommates.  At least the Ghost is cute.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 68





	A Haunting at Casa De Lance

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Keith - posted during a tornado so EXTRA SPOOKY VIBES!

His first roommate had been a werewolf. Lance was sure of it.

The guy would become increasingly more hostile over the weeks, until suddenly he was the chillest dude in the world. Once a month he would leave on Friday night, only to come back Sunday morning with a skip in his step and breakfast in hand. He’d bring Lance the rent cheque, a latte, and a muffin those mornings. He’d whistle to himself as he puttered around the apartment eating everything in sight, then crash on the couch; not even bothering to make it to his own bed. He’d grunt and groan and nearly growl at Lance if the Cuban dared to wake him. 

Eventually Mark had moved out, excitedly claiming that he was moving in with his long distance girlfriend and would finally be able to see her more than one weekend per month. Which was fine by Lance, the guy was a total slob and all around difficult roommate. But that could be explained up to his lycanthrope nature. 

His next roommate, Aiden, seemed completely normal - at first. He’d come by one evening to view the apartment before signing the rental paperwork and moving in a week later. 

Lance had been over at Hunk’s for a Hallmark movie marathon and came home to find new furniture and blackout curtains in the living room. His old (and much nicer curtains, thank you very much) were folded neatly on his bed having been washed and ironed. 

Over the course of several months, Lance started to note the bizarre schedule of his new roommate. The second bedroom door would open at precisely 7:04PM, Aiden’s alarm going off 4 minutes prior, and the shower would turn on at 7:07PM. Somewhere between 7:20PM and 7:30PM the bathroom door would open, releasing a billowing of steam into the hall, and at 7:50PM the other would emerge from his room fully dressed. Lance would watch as he walked right past the kitchen, not even bothering to pretend to be a normal person who ate actual food, and grabbed his jacket without a word as he swiftly left the apartment. Like clockwork Lance would watch his roommate leave every evening, only to find a Do-Not-Disturb sign hanging around his bedroom door first thing in the morning. 

Girls would come around on occasion. Typically it was the same girl, though sometimes she came with a friend. Lance had learned her name only because he’d over heard it being screamed through the walls in the middle of the day; it was Jessica. She would come home with Aiden in the wee hours of the morn from time to time, make a whole lot of noise for an hour or so, then sneak out of his room shortly after noon for the walk of shame across the apartment. 

Jessica (and any ‘friends’ she brought along) would always leave with large red marks spattering across their necks, Aiden himself never left his room during the day when his ‘guests’ would leave, he never used the kitchen or seemed to eat anything, and he  _ claimed _ that his nocturnal schedule was due to being a permanent member of the hospital night shift. It was all too convenient for Lance and when the tall, thin young man returned wearing blood stained clothes he’d made up his mind. There was no more doubting that he’d traded in a werewolf for a vampire. 

Lance had tried to prove his obviously correct and flawlessly accurate theory by adding insane amounts of garlic to his cooking, hanging his Abuela’s crucifix in the hallway, and attempting to have the hot water tank blessed by a priest. Each had their own flaws, but in the end he’d managed to drive out the vampire by taking up widdling. He would sit in the living room, dead center on the couch, and widdle flutes and figurines, obviously starting out by shaping them into a very clear steak to prove his point. He knew what Aiden was, based on the strange looks he’d receive, Lance knew he knew he knew - wait, did that make sense? Point was, everyone was in the know. All parties knew what Aiden was but neither of them would actually say it.

It took another 6 months but the Vampire eventually left. He sighted Lance’s “being a total weirdo and creep” as the reason but Lance knew the truth and considered himself lucky to have dodged a bullet. 

After Aiden, the second bedroom sat empty for a few months before the Cuban had to admit financial defeat and search for a new roommate once again. This time he didn’t even get to meet the new guy before he moved in; everything having been done back and forth via email. 

For the past three months Lance would come home from work to an empty cup sitting on the coffee table, or a half eaten box of cereal left on the kitchen counter, or a flyaway sock laying in the hall, or a soggy towel hanging over the shower railing, or any of the other countless signs that his new roommate maybe actually sort of existed. Food was eaten, things were moved around, he’d hear the occasional sound emanating from the second bedroom, but otherwise there was no way to tell if someone else resided there.

The strangest thing of all was that this new roommate hadn’t even brought furniture with him. Like, at all! Sure, the second bedroom came furnished with a bed, night table, and dresser, but there was space specifically left in the living room for a chair or sofa or side table, perhaps a lamp, maybe even a desk. Point is, unless you already knew Lance had a roommate you would assume he lived alone. And sometimes it felt like it.

Over the three months that Keith A. Kogane (according to his rental application) had lived there, Lance and Hunk had taken to calling him “The Ghost”. Lance is a reasonable guy, he knows the mysterious Keith is  _ probably _ not really a ghost, but that theory is hard to test when you never actually see the person you are living with. And after his past two roommates it wouldn’t surprise him if this one turned out to be a supernatural being as well. 

Take two weeks ago for example, Hunk showed up for a movie night but Lance was late getting out of work. No problem, no problem, Lance has a roommate that can totally get up and open the door to let the big guy in right? … Right?? Well, you’d be wrong to assume that The Ghost would do anything normal. Oh no, not this guy! He ignored poor Hunk’s knocking, leaving the human marshmallow to wait awkwardly in the corridor until Lance arrived almost 20 minutes later. You see, Lance is the type of guy that likes to give the benefit of the doubt, which is why he assumed that maybe The Ghost just wasn’t home, except he could totally hear him moving around in his room! Rude!

A few days later, there was a strange device connected to their door and a key tapped on the inside with a note saying simply “new key” in scratchy handwriting. Lance had groaned loud enough for The Ghost to hear him before switching out his keyring and heading off to work. That night Hunk had beaten him to the apartment once again but this time when he knocked, an eerie green light flashed at the knob before the door opened itself, revealing no one on the other side.

SO SPOOKY! 

Lance had survived a werewolf and a vampire as roommates, but this ghost was the first one to genuinely freak him out. Naturally, he invited Hunk and his girlfriend Shay over so she could light a sage smudge and try to cleanse the apartment of any negative energy. He knew they both thought he was crazy, but the smudge had actually worked and Lance’s little home now felt clearer than ever. There hadn’t been any signs of The Ghost after that for several days with the exception of a rent cheque sliding under his bedroom door in the middle of the night.

Until now.

Lance lay in his bed, sound asleep, resting like the beautiful angel that he is, when he suddenly saw the flash of green light and heard the front door unlatch. Thinking this strange, he hopped out of bed and into his favourite fuzzy blue lion slippers, and made his way out into the shared hall between the two bedrooms. He couldn’t hear any voices, and no lights had been turned on, but there was definitely movement and Lance was now maybe just a little freaked out. But only a little.

He turned the corner and entered the living room; no one, so he made his way towards the bathroom; no one, and finally the kitchen. This is where Lance would like you to note that he has a natural falsetto which is quite lovely when he sings but often is mistaken as ‘girlish’ when he is startled. That being said, he was startled. 

Standing in the middle of the kitchen, a wash in total darkness, and pouring cereal into his mouth straight from the box like A BLOODY HEATHEN, was none other than The Ghost himself. 

“Hey” he maybe said; it was hard to tell since apparently this guy had been raised in a barn where it's acceptable to talk with your mouth full of dry frosted flakes. Lance rolled his eyes at him and moved to flick on the lights, earning a sharp “Don’t you fucking dare!” that he was definitely able to hear. 

He snorted in response, opting to flick the lights on anyways - and promptly regretting his life choices immediately afterwards. The bright industrial light in the kitchen seared away his retinas and definitely left him blinded for life. Or at least 3 to 5 minutes.

The Ghost threw his box of cereal across the room with terrifying precision and, sending flakes of sugar coated corn scattering across the floor, cursed Lance out for being “a total prick”.

“Well SoRrY” Lacne mocked “Pardon me for wanting to actually meet my roommate in person for once!”

The Ghost stayed rooted to his spot, leaning against the counter with his hands covering his face to shield and soothe his eyes from the onslaught of light. “You’ve met me - we talked a lot when I sent in my application.” he grumbled from behind his palms.

“Uhh Earth to antisocial - two emails is not ‘talking a lot’.” Lance argued and could practically  _ feel _ the eyeroll he knew the other was most likely giving him.

“Whatever, we live in the same apartment. You could have met me if you wanted.”

“You never come out of your room!” Lance countered. 

“Yes I do.” Was Keith’s brilliantly crafted and deeply thought out response. 

Lance scoffed at him. “When I’m home?” He sassed and received nothing more than a shrug. Ugh, what planet did this guy grow up on to avoid learning the very basics of social etiquette and communication skills? Seriously, Lance was starting to think his moniker should be updated from ‘Ghost’ to ‘Alien’! 

Silently The Intergalactic Ghost pushed off from the counter and turned to Lance with the most  _ absolutely stunning eyes he’d ever seen in his whole life! OMG you’ve got to be kidding! How was this guy even real!!! _ Lance’s jaw hit the linoleum so hard he was certain the other would trip over it.

“Keith.” he said, aggressively thrusting his hand in Lance’s direction but offering a small smile that had all of the fight fluttering out of him in an instant.

Lance’s ridiculous falsetto reared its embarrassing head once again as he sweatily gripped the other’s hand, giving it a weak shake. “Lance.” he squeeked.

“Nice to meet you Lance. Now get the fuck out of my way so I can go back to bed.” Keith grumbled; soft smile morphing into a frown. 

“What? And miss this golden opportunity? No way dude! Let’s chat, get to know each other, forge a friendship to rule the ages.” Honestly Lance didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, the word vomit just spewed from him as his nerves took the reins. He had never met anyone so effortlessly attractive. 

Keith cocked his head to the side and responded with a confused scrunching of his face. It was mortifyingly cute. 

“I don’t want to do that.” The Cute Ghost replied, shaking his head gently and moving to step past the melting Cuban.

“Well, do you at least want to help me clean up the mess you made?” Lance sassed, having regained his senses.

Keith paused in the kitchen doorway, turned back to stare Lance directly in the eyes, and said “No.” as if that was a valid response. He turned back to the door, flicked off the kitchen light, and silently slipped around the corner. 

_ What just happened? _ Lance thought to himself as he stood in the now dark kitchen. He gave his head a little shake, clearing out butterflies that refused to stop fluttering around, and grabbed the broom.

The Cute Ghost’s “personality” needed some tweaking … or more accurately it needed  _ heavy _ tweaking, but Lance was always up for a good challenge. He would break those walls, he would force them to bond and become besties! Heck, if Lance had his way maybe even  _ more _ than besties. 

Yup! This was happening. Operation “Turn  _ Cute Ghost _ into  _ Cute Boyfriend _ ” was now in full swing. Wish him luck - he might need it!


End file.
